Dominion Ch. 07

The harsh wind blew Trysten's cloak haphazardly about as he approached an inn to the west of river. It was nearing autumn and the trees spotting the land around the trail of water wore leaves that were already beginning to wilt from the cool weather. He looked up at the moon and wondered just how many more nights he would be able to survive before he had nowhere to turn. With a final heavy sigh, he moved to stand before the small place he hoped would allow him some food and a bed for the night... If he was lucky. The gold he had would probably last him another two days before he had nothing, and by then he would probably already be discovered and hunted down.

He wondered if it would be better to just turn himself in.

The building before him seemed homely, with it's worn wooden sign hanging over well used doors. 'The Rusty Tankard' was the name of the place, and he wondered how popular it could be considering the nearest town was only a ten minute walk from here. He hoped it was busy enough for him to blend into the background, so he could relax for a while before he moved on. This was the first time he had stopped to rest since he left Hollowood. He opened the large doors and stepped inside, the heat of the fire assaulting his chilled body as he looked around. It was a cozy place, but he knew it would not be long before he was recognized and kicked out. He kept his hood pulled tightly over his face as he picked a booth in the very back of the Inn and tuned into a conversation between two customers at the bar.

"Did ye' hear the heir of the Kyaga was banished two days ago?"

"Aye. Heard he murdered someone and tried to take the pendant from the Overlord. Must be mad, tryin somethin like that. Power hungry bastard."

"It's not surprisin, considerin how corrupt the Dominion is already. It's amazin they ain't torn themselves apart by now," he took a swig from his mug. "Who knows, maybe he was tryin'a fix the problem."

The two laughed as one of the men slapped the ass of a passing waitress, and Trysten pulled his cloak tighter around his body as he waited for the girl to approach him.

"Doubt that. There's a reason most people don't enter Krauth unless they have te. Not a man alive in that shit hole remains untainted by their ways," the other grumbled. "There's also been rumors about the Gaidec goin missin. Taken from their own island at that!"

"Aye? Tis hard to believe. Few're strong enough te face one in battle and survive, let alone take one down. 'Sides, I thought Jhelati was well fortified! I can't imagine sneakin onte that island without the Gaidec's knowin would be easy."

"Ye', I wonder who's behind it. I bet the Kyaga're the ones. Maybe even the banished prince himself. I'm sure Farlan is lookin inte it as we speak."

The young waitress approached Trysten, stopping to ask what he would like to eat. He removed a few gold pieces from his coin purse and placed them onto the table, careful to hide the power suppressing bracelet from view.

"I'll take a hot meal. Whatever you have available is fine."

She nodded and happily went about her business, wondering about the mysterious man at the booth. He seemed to be hiding something... maybe he was on the run? Either way, as long he didn't cause any trouble, he was free to stay as long as he needed. She busied herself with making him a plate of food, and then heard a loud crashing noise from the common room.

Another bar fight? This was the fourth just this week! She scurried from the kitchen and found herself in front of two regulars brawling on the floor. She stepped in to break it up, but a snarl and a heavy fist to her knee cap told her it wasn't the best idea. The pain was sharp, and though she didn't think it was broken, she felt her knee buckle and her weight gave out on her. Before she hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around her body, and that's when she saw it.

A power suppressing bracelet.

Her eyes widened in shock and fear. Only criminals and those of unsound mind were forced to wear the bracelet. It was a punishment doled out by the Dominion, their prisons and dungeons already overflowing with criminals of a worse kind. She thought to scream for help, but those same strong arms lifted her and set her onto a chair, quickly kneeling to check her knee for lasting damage while the cook broke up the fight. The hood he wore had fallen partially back, revealing white hair and very concerned ocean blue eyes.

It couldn't be! Was it the truly the prince?

She couldn't tell him how lucky he was that no one else had discovered him! She quickly pulled the hood down farther over his face, and prayed no one else had seen the bracelet. He shot her a look of confusion and she looked around in exasperation before placing a finger over her lips in warning, motioning him to his seat in the back. She watched as he stood and returned to the booth. Relieved that he was not the center of attention, she then stood as well, grimacing as the cook shuffled over to her.

"Ye' doin alright Mila?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she insisted as she brushed off her apron and accompanied him back to the kitchen. "What the hell was that about anyway?"

"Tanya."

"Of course," she sighed, rolling her eyes. The woman was known for her ways with men. "Would you mind if I rested my leg for a little while, Jimmy? I think a few minutes should be enough."

"Of course dear, off with you now,"

She smiled as she picked up the bowl of stew and headed back towards Trysten, a slight limp in her step. She sat the bowl down onto his side of the table and slid into the seat across from him. He tentatively picked up the spoon and took a bite, sighing in relief. It was obvious he hadn't eaten in a while.

"I know who you are," she whispered, watching as he tensed slightly at her words. "Don't worry, I want to help you. I know someone who's been looking for you."

"A lot of people are looking for me," he replied sarcastically as he sucked down his food, no doubt concerned he wouldn't be able to finish his meal before being attacked and thrown from the inn. Poor man, "What do you want in return?"

"Just your cooperation."

He lifted his face then, peering at her in apprehension. Of course he did not trust her. He was born and raised in Hollowood, a city full of selfish heathens, and had probably only known betrayal. Besides, he was on the run and she was a complete stranger, he had no reason to trust her. She smiled reassuringly, placing both hands on to the table with her palms flat. She was careful to make it seem subconscious, but she wanted to come off as non threatening as possible. The prince was was probably shaken to pieces, and as defenseless as he was, it made sense that he struggled with trusting a stranger like herself.

"Listen. I will bring you another bowl of food, and when you finish eating... Just stay here for a while and rest. Keep your hood on and avoid drawing attention to yourself okay?" She murmured, and shook her head as he reached for his coin purse. "No, I do not wish to take what little you have. All I ask is that you stay until my shift is over so that I can speak with you. Will you do that for me?You have nothing to lose, after all."

He seemed to be struggling with a decision, but finally nodded in consent and rested his arms and head onto the table. The poor thing was probably exhausted. She smiled to herself as she entered the kitchen to fill another bowl of soup and brought it to him, standing there for a few moments before returning to her work.

After hours of tending to other customers and cleaning up during closing time, she nudged the man awake and accompanied him outside. They walked along the edge of the river while she attempted to find way to explain it all. Did he have any idea what he was?

Who he was?

It was obvious that he was becoming more and more uncomfortable with her silence, most likely convinced he would be ambushed at any moment. She cleared her throat and fought for the courage to speak.

"Do you know anything about your mother?"

The question had obviously caught him off guard. It was a strange way to start the conversation, knowing he probably had no idea she was even relevant to the current situation... But she didn't know where else to start. He looked at her suspiciously and could see his jaw clenching over and over, causing her to sigh. Maybe answers were better than questions.

"Your father probably lied to you about her," she began awkwardly, "Lauralie was Maeleq, and a very powerful mystic."

"Lauralie," he spoke the word softly, as if testing the sound of it. Did Rhyn not even tell them her name? For shame, that man! "How do you know that this... Lauralie, was my mother?"

"Because she was my aunt."

This definitely drew Trysten's attention, causing him to stop completely as he turned to face Mila. He reached out and grabbed the bar maid by her shoulders as he looked at her with a glimmer of hope. He seemed so shaken, so panicked... But at the same time she could feel a hunger awaken inside of him. She smiled nervously up at him and thought of what to say next.

"Rhyn took her against her will, wishing for a strong minded heir. He raped her and forced her to bear his children," she said, trying to hold a level tone. It was hard to keep the malice out of her voice as she spat her next words. "After you and Nora were born, he murdered her in cold blood, as to keep the people from knowing your true heritage. No one could know you were only a half blood, since it's illegal to weaken the Kyaga bloodline. If someone discovered what you were, you both would have been killed as well."

He looked down at her in silence, shocked and awed by the woman's story. He wanted to call her a liar, to throw her to the ground and run as far away as he could... But something told him she was telling the truth, and that scared him even more. Why did he still want to run?

What was he running from?

"I know it's hard to believe," she continued sheepishly, daunted by the intensity of his stare, "but the point I'm trying to make is that you have Maeleq blood inside of you, and I can take you to a place where you can learn to use that power."

"Where is this place you speak of?"

"Deep within the marshes of Pakaur."

Pakaur.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. That wasn't far from here, but he had heard many stories of that place. No one who dared enter those marshes ever came back alive. He shuddered at the thought. Was that where the elusive mystics hid themselves away? Maybe it wasn't the marsh itself that was dangerous, but the people who guarded it. The real question though, was whether the woman was being honest, or if this was just an elaborate ruse to get him lost and killed. He released her arms and brought his hands to his face in exasperation. What did he have to lose? He would die out here anyway. Whether he was murdered by mobs, or starved to death... He would have to make a choice. At least with this woman he had some inkling of a chance to do more than run until he couldn't any longer. She was right. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. He had to find a way back to his sister. She was the only thing that mattered in his life, and if he had to walk through deadly marshes to do it, then he would do just that.

He would die trying, if that's what it took.

"Alright. Take me there."

"I can only take you so far, Trysten. You must walk the rest alone. They will guide you, do you understand?"

"How do I know you aren't wishing to get me lost in that wretched place?"

"If I wanted you dead, I would have outed you back at the inn."

He sighed and closed his eyes. She was right of course, but she seemed to be forgetting that there were people out there that wanted more than just his death. The Tourik would be seeking him out for information as well. But then again, maybe selling out his father would bring him closer to reuniting with Nora.

Maybe a world controlled by the wings of light would be a good thing.

"Are you working with the Tourik?"

"In way, I guess I am. Helping you will inevitably further their goals, so I guess I'm rooting for the Kaharin," she murmured as she looked at him. "We're halfway to the marshes. About ten more minutes along the river and we will be there. You can already see the trees in the distance."

He looked ahead and sure enough, through the mist he could see warped and mangled tree carcasses on the horizon. The sun was beginning to rise behind them, setting the scene on fire with a foreboding haze of red and orange. The idea of trudging through the deadly swamp sent shivers up his spine, even the sight of the place sent the hair on the back of his neck to full attention. How was she so sure the mystics would even allow his passage? Though they remained hidden from the world, it was well known they favored the Republic over the Dominion. They cared little for the Kyaga, and even less for their Naugu brethren.

Trysten was so lost in thought that he hadn't realized when they reached the edge of the marshes. He looked up and almost stumbled into the murky water. He hadn't even thought about how he would trudge through the nasty waters on foot.

"I assume this is where we part ways?"

"Yes."

He nodded in silent resignation, staring at the terrifying landscape before him. Even at full strength these marshes were dangerous. The bracelet reducing him to a powerless shell made it even more so. He swallowed lightly, and took a step into the murky water.

He felt the liquid seep into his boot, and soak his pant leg up to the ankle. The water was warm and sluggish, and as he took another step he could feel the death and rot of the soil below seeping into his skin. He shivered and shook his head to clear it, continuing his trek through the swampy grave.

He turned around to say goodbye to Mila, and to thank her. But as he stole a glance behind him, all he could see was more of the marsh. He knew he hadn't walked so far that the edge of the trees would be out of sight! How could it be that he was already so deep into the bog already? He looked up at the sky to gauge how long he had been walking, thinking that maybe he had just been lost in thought, but the sky was overcast and he could not see the position of the sun.

"Is this your doing?" He pondered out loud about the mind walkers that occupied the marsh. Were they causing him to hallucinate? He shuddered and closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain calm and focus on walking.

Just as we expected.

He flipped around, searching for the voice that had just spoken, but there was no one to be seen. What did they mean by that? What exactly were they expecting? He sighed and closed his eyes again in an attempt to regain his composure, and continued his journey deeper into the marsh. Either he was losing his mind, or the mind walkers truly did live in these marshes.

The farther he walked, the harder it was to concentrate on the task ahead. What was he even doing here? How long had he been walking? He wasn't sure. The landscape was hauntingly repetitive, as if he had been walking in circles the entire time, and there was no way to truly tell how long he had been inside the seemingly vast swamp.

Time seemed completely irrelevant, and soon he was passing the time by counting his foot steps, the time between his haggard breaths, the rapidly increasing rate of his heart. It felt like he had been walking along this marsh his entire life, and each step washed away his resolve to fight his exhaustion. It wasn't long before he decided that resting was his only option, and in an exhausted stupor, he stumbled up to a large tree trunk and leaned his back against it.

He closed his eyes and sighed, deciding that he could find a way out after he awoke. As he drifted off, he could hear the feint sound of voices in the back of his mind, whispering lullabies to him, and sleep immediately consumed him.

When Trysten awoke, he looked around with sleep leaded eyes and tried to remember how he ended up passed out in a pool of muddy water. Where was he? Grabbing a hold of the tree he was against, he pulled himself into a standing position and cursed. His clothes were completely soaked from the dingy water he had been laying in. He quickly took in his surroundings and cursed once more. Everything looked the same! There were no landmarks, no way to track his footprints through the muddy water. His stomach growled and he winced, realizing that it had been hours since his last meal.

Damn that Mila! The snake lead him to his death! He cursed again and continued his angry trek through the graveyard, glaring angrily at anything that moved in his peripheral. This whole thing was a mistake, and now he would never see his sister again!

"Is this a joke to you?" He screamed into the crisp air. "Do you enjoy toying with peoples lives?"

Of course there was no answer, and he ticked in frustration and closed his eyes. It was no use, he would definitely die here. He put his head in his hands and held back angry tears. It was all useless! Even if he made it out of here alive, he hadn't the first clue how to survive as a wanted criminal, let alone come up with a way to find his sister! It was hopeless. He might as well just give up.

Open your eyes, child of Melora.

He had to be hallucinating. This voice only came to him once before, and it had to have been a figment of his imagination. But the curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly lifted his lead to look out into the marshes once more. Night had begun to fall, and small glowing insects were lighting the swamp through the mist that was shrouded it in a sheet of murky gray.

At first glance, he saw nothing. But the longer he tried to make out his surroundings, he began to see something in the distance. Was it a building? With crazed eyes, he kept his gaze fixed on that something, stumbling forward as he desperately made his way toward his last inkling of hope. The closer he got, the more the building began to take shape, and he increased his pace, sprinting as quickly as he could through the waters sludge.

It looked like a temple, and he found himself sobbing in relief as he made it closer to the wide stone doors of the entrance. He was almost there! As he reached out a hand to the building, his foot caught on the exposed root of a tree, and he stumbled and fell, panting on his hands and knees. He watched as his tears dripped onto the hard stone below him, and look another shaky breath.

"Welcome home, brother."